Act 1. Scene II - Page 2

had o'erlooked the letter:
It were a shame to call her back again
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
What a fool is she, that knows I am a maid,
And would not force the letter to my view!
Since maids, in modesty, say 'no' to that
Which they would have the profferer construe 'ay.'
Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love
That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse
And presently all humbled kiss the rod!
How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly I would have had her here!
How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforced my heart to smile!
My penance is to call Lucetta back
And ask remission for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta!

Re-enter LUCETTA

LUCETTA
What would your ladyship?

JULIA
Is't near dinner-time?

LUCETTA
I would it were,
That you might kill your stomach on your meat
And not upon your maid.

JULIA
What is't that you took up so gingerly?

LUCETTA
Nothing.

JULIA
Why didst thou stoop, then?

LUCETTA
To take a paper up that I let fall.

JULIA
And is that paper nothing?

LUCETTA
Nothing concerning me.

JULIA
Then let it lie for those that it concerns.

LUCETTA
Madam, it will not lie where it concerns
Unless it have a false interpeter.

JULIA
Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.

LUCETTA
That I might sing it, madam, to a tune.
Give me a note: your ladyship can set.

JULIA
As little by such toys as may be possible.
Best sing it to the tune of 'Light o' love.'

LUCETTA
It is too heavy for so light a tune.

JULIA
Heavy! belike it hath some burden then?

LUCETTA
Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it.

JULIA
And why not you?

LUCETTA
I cannot reach so high.

JULIA
Let's see your song. How now, minion!

LUCETTA
Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:
And yet methinks I do not like this tune.

JULIA
You do not?

LUCETTA
No, madam; it is too sharp.

JULIA
You, minion, are too saucy.

LUCETTA
Nay, now you are too flat
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.

JULIA
The mean is drown'd with your unruly bass.

LUCETTA
Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.

JULIA
This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation!

Tears the letter

Go get you gone, and let the papers lie:
You would be fingering them, to anger me.

LUCETTA
She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased